Future Perfect
by bingblot
Summary: Castle surprises Beckett for their anniversary. A two-shot future fic, written for Castle Pornado. M-rating for the second chapter.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All things "Castle" belong to ABC & Co.

Author's Note: This was originally intended to be a one-shot but it got too long for that so it's now a two-shot future fic, fluff and smut, written for the Castle Pornado (and being posted a little late, because RL got in the way). Cavity alert for seriously fluffy fluff. Consider yourselves warned and if you're looking for a plot, you won't find it here.

For Mobazan27.

 **Future Perfect**

 _Part One_

Kate pushed open the door to the loft with a little sigh of relief, feeling the spurt of joy she always felt on coming home. Her noisy, messy, wonderful home.

Her thought was immediately belied as she stepped inside to be greeted by the sound of silence. The house was still messy—there were dirty dishes and other various detritus from the day's meals left out in the kitchen and a single stray sock of Lily's on the floor in the family room—but it was entirely and completely quiet. Hmm.

"Lily? Castle?"

She had sent Castle her usual text to let him know she was on her way home before she'd left the precinct. He hadn't responded but that wasn't unusual since he was usually busy with their daughter. She supposed Castle must simply have taken Lily out for some errand or something but then again, he hadn't mentioned an outing and anyway, he normally wouldn't take Lily anywhere in the evening without Kate and certainly not on an evening she planned to spend at home.

Curious but not alarming, at least not yet.

She slipped off her shoes and put her gun away in the safe before moving towards their bedroom to check if Castle and Lily were sleeping. It wasn't Lily's usual naptime but then Lily didn't have much of a "usual naptime" at all. (Kate had given up on the idea of ever sticking to an orderly, predictable schedule pretty much from the day Lily had arrived. And even though it still surprised her at times, she loved it.)

Nope, no husband and no baby daughter in their bedroom either. But—Kate felt a smile curve her lips—there was a dress laid out on their bed. One she'd never seen before so clearly her sneaky husband had found time to do some shopping. And oh, the dress was beautiful, deep purple and silky and with a flare at the skirt to fall to just above her knees.

So they were going out tonight, to somewhere fancy too.

Hmm. Well, if Castle had planned a surprise, she could surprise him too. A faint smile flitted around her lips as she moved towards her dresser to look through her underwear collection. Thanks to the advent of Lily, she no longer wore sexy underwear on anything approaching a regular basis so gradually her sexy underwear collection had been relegated to the bottom of the drawer so tonight, she deliberately went straight to the bottom of the drawer. Mm. Ooh, that would work. She smiled to herself as she plucked out a set that basically consisted of a few scraps of black silk and lace masquerading as under-clothing.

Smiling (okay, smirking) to herself, she retreated into the bathroom to change, just in case her absent husband decided to return. No need to risk spoiling his part of the surprise.

Which turned out to be the right decision because she heard the faint sound of the door as she was just slipping into the dress and knew Castle must be home now. Zipping up her dress, she surveyed herself in the mirror, a bubble of anticipation and pleasure growing in her chest. She hadn't had a bad day at work but it was work (work without Castle, which was still not her favorite thing) and she felt her mood lift, happiness buzzing through her. As much as she adored her daughter, it occurred to her that it was nice to get dressed up like this, would be fun to go out somewhere with Castle. She couldn't really remember the last time she and Castle had gotten dressed up and gone out somewhere nice. They'd had a quiet Christmas and New Year's with just their family and before then, there hadn't been any opportunity either, not since… before Lily had been born—god, had it really been more than a year?

Well, clearly Castle had something planned to make up for that.

She quickly touched up her makeup to make it more appropriate for a night out and then opened the door to their bedroom, making Castle spin around from the closet to look at her and then to stare.

"Hey—wow," he breathed out, his greeting truncated as he stared and said nothing more.

"Hey, babe. I see you've planned something for the evening."

"Uh huh," he agreed absently, his eyes still focused somewhere below her face.

She smirked to herself, a bubble of satisfaction rising within her. She wasn't quite back to her pre-pregnancy weight; there were a few pesky pounds that refused to leave but it was very clear that it didn't matter in the slightest to Castle. She sternly controlled her expression as she said, "Eyes up, Castle."

He blinked and jerked his eyes up to her face. "Right, yeah," he agreed, not very smoothly, and then added, somewhat restored to himself, "Oh, before you ask, my mother is watching Lily for the night. And Alexis is watching my mother so she'll make sure that my mother doesn't decide to introduce our toddler to jello shots or something like that."

She couldn't help a laugh even as she gave him a look of mild reproach. "Martha wouldn't do that, Castle. She's not that irresponsible." Or irresponsible at all, not when it came to Lily. She might be unconventional, to say the least, but Martha would sooner cut off her own arm than do anything that would be harmful to her granddaughter.

"This is my mother we're talking about. She had me learn how to make Bloody Marys before the age of 10."

"Yes, and clearly you've turned out terribly as a result," Kate drawled.

"Says the woman who married me."

"Temporary insanity," she quipped.

"Hey!" Castle turned from where he'd picked out a suit to throw her a pout. "Mean, Beckett," he pretended to grumble.

She only laughed and didn't even bother to pretend to be doing anything other than ogling him as he stripped out of his t-shirt and jeans and changed into a nice dark suit and one of his dark burgundy shirts that always made his eyes seem almost startlingly blue in contrast.

Mm, he still had a great ass. And of course, she'd always been a big fan of the muscles of his chest and arms. What, he was her husband, she was allowed to ogle.

His eyes caught hers as he finished buttoning up his shirt and he quirked his eyebrows at her. "See something you like?"

"It's a very nice shirt," she answered primly.

He smirked at her. "I think it's the body inside the shirt you were looking at."

Guilty as charged but she chose not to admit it (at least, not then) and only made a show of gathering up a wrap and finding a small formal purse for the evening. She knew he still had that cocky smirk on his face—by now, she could sense it—but she ignored it in favor of getting ready for an evening out. Not least because if she gave in and looked at him again, it was entirely possible—probable—to lead to things that would lead to them staying in rather than leaving the loft.

It wasn't long before he was standing beside her, holding out a hand. "You ready to leave, Mrs. Castle?"

She smiled—as usual when he called her 'Mrs. Castle'—and put her hand in his. "Lead the way, Mr. Castle."

By now, Kate felt no surprise at all to see the luxurious town car Castle had hired, only smiling a greeting for the driver before sliding into the back seat. It did surprise her a little that Castle made no attempt to tease her—well, touch her—once they were inside the car, only held her hand decorously on the seat between them.

"So Castle, wanna tell me where we're going?"

He favored her with another smirk, his eyes dancing with some mischief now. "Nope, it's a surprise."

She eyed him but she could tell when she could try to tease an answer out of him and when he was determined to carry through with his surprise and this was one of the latter times. Oh well, she trusted him. And there was a light in his eyes that told her that whatever he had planned was something she would like.

Only to change her mind a few minutes later as he pulled something out of his jacket pocket, dangling it in front of her. "Here, put this on, Beckett."

A blindfold? She gave him a narrow-eyed look. "I don't think so."

He gave her one of his wide-eyes pleading looks but she resisted it.

"No, Castle, I am not wearing a blindfold in public," she stated flatly. What she might do, occasionally, in the privacy of their bedroom was neither here nor there; trust him or no, a blindfold in public was a step too far.

He affected a beleaguered sigh but she could see in his expression that he wasn't actually that surprised. He knew her too well. "Fine, well, at least close your eyes and no peeking."

"Are you kidding me, Castle?"

"Nope. I told you it's a surprise so you need to close your eyes."

It was her turn to huff an exaggerated sigh but she closed her eyes. "Just remember that my shooting you will put a damper on our night out," she warned with mock tartness.

"Duly noted."

And then she could feel that he was actually waving his hand barely inches in front of her face, making sure she wasn't peeking. She really might end up killing him. "Castle!"

"Fine, fine, just don't peek. It'll ruin the surprise."

"What are you, a five year old?" she muttered but found her irritation dissipating even as she spoke. Oh damn, this man. He was ridiculous, no doubt about that, but he always got so into schemes like this, tried so hard to bring magic into every day. And succeeded with Lily-and yes, with her too. She loved him for it.

"Hush, Beckett, you're going to love it. Just wait."

The car slowed to a halt and then stopped and she heroically refrained from opening her eyes.

"No opening your eyes until I say so."

"I get it, Castle. And I won't."

"Good."

He gripped her hand and she carefully slid out of the car, trying to identify where they were. It was a futile endeavor, of course. All she knew was their general whereabouts from the cross streets she'd last seen but aside from that, she had nothing.

Really, he was lucky she trusted him. There wasn't another person in the world who she would allow to do this.

He tugged on her hand and she followed obediently, stepping rather cautiously. She could sense the sudden change in the temperature and the air as they stepped inside a building, heard the click of her heels on what sounded like marble. The atmosphere was an odd mix of bustling and subdued, no sound of silverware so it wasn't a restaurant as would have been her first guess. No, it was something else, something familiar, but before she could begin to analyze what seemed so familiar, she was being led somewhere else and heard Castle direct someone to "52 please."

Okay, so this must be an elevator, she guessed, and was proven right when she heard a familiar bell sound and felt the elevator begin to move.

The elevator came to a stop and she heard the doors slide open and Castle led her out and immediately, she was aware of a change in atmosphere again, to say nothing of a drop in the noise level. It was quiet up here, no one or very few other people around. She could feel a breeze from somewhere ahead of them and guessed a door must be open leading outside. To a balcony, she guessed.

"Just a sec," Castle said and led her a few more steps before directing her to stop. "Okay, now, open."

She did. And blinked in the sudden light to focus, first, on his smiling face and then look around. It was a big space, clearly meant for fancy parties, with a bar off to one side and leading out onto… a rooftop deck. It was very glitzy, opulent. And empty, except for the two of them.

There was something vaguely familiar about it, some nagging memory tugging at the back of her mind, but before she could tease it out, she felt Castle take both her hands in his and tug her towards him.

"Happy anniversary, Beckett," he told her quietly, his arms loosely sliding around her waist.

Huh, what? "We got married in November," she responded, a faint frown crossing her face. She knew he hadn't forgotten their wedding anniversary, he wouldn't. Besides, he had given her a beautiful necklace for their last anniversary, not that many months ago.

He smirked, just a little. "Not the anniversary I'm talking about. Try again."

Another anniversary. They'd gotten together (and gotten engaged) in May, so it couldn't be that. She glanced around and now the memory emerged. A party—she'd last been here in the middle of a party, lots of people, mostly women, bustling around. A laugh bubbled up. Oh yes, now she understood. "This is where the _Storm Fall_ book launch party was."

He grinned, pleased with her (and himself). "Now you've got it. I realized the other day that today is the 10 year anniversary of the day we met."

"Not exactly," she corrected him automatically. (Had it really been 10 years?)

He made a face at her. "You know I don't count the book signing."

"You mean you don't remember the book signing," she teased, more to see him bridle the way he tended to when reminded of that than because she meant anything. Teasing him about not remembering their actual first meeting had become something of a running joke between them if only because he tended to pout so adorably when she did so.

"I've had thousands of book signings," he pretended to grumble. "But I have not been arrested so many times that I'd forget the date it happened."

She quirked her eyebrow at him. "Oh no? I think a certain police horse would beg to differ."

He gave a crack of laughter. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Nope," she grinned.

" _Anyway_ ," he went on, "I could never forget the date on which a certain leggy detective—"

"Leggy?" she interrupted him. "Really, Castle, that's the adjective you pick to describe me?"

The corners of his lips tugged upwards into a teasing leer as he deliberately scanned her body from head to toe. "Well, Beckett," he answered in a tone of mock thoughtfulness, "I could have picked other... attributes. I think you're aware of my deep and abiding appreciation for your br—"

She shot him a look. "Do not finish that sentence, Castle."

In the blink of an eye, he assumed an expression that would have done justice to a saint. "I very much appreciate your brains," he told her piously. "Why, Beckett, whatever did you think I was going to say?"

She sputtered a laugh. He'd got her there. Damn it. Not that she believed for a second that he'd actually been thinking of his appreciation for her brains. "Castle!"

He smirked. "As I was saying, I could never forget the day a certain detective walked into my life… and turned my entire world upside down and inside out."

She gave a gasp of feigned outrage. " _You_ were the one who turned _my_ life upside down and inside out!"

"I did no such thing," he pretended to huff. "I was simply minding my own business, completely innocent that someone had concocted a plan to use my books to set up an innocent man."

She snorted. "I think you're forgetting the way you barged into my life after that first case was solved and refused to leave."

"It was for research purposes. My intentions were entirely pure."

"Pure, ha," she scoffed. "That's some nice revisionist history you're telling yourself there, Writer Boy."

He made a face at her, entirely belied by the laughter sparking in his eyes. "If you'll stop interrupting me, I'm trying to tell a story about the day 10 years ago today that a certain detective walked up to me and changed my life forever." Just like that, his tone was entirely sober and she felt her heart melt as he went on, his eyes holding hers. "She intrigued me, challenged me, irritated the hell out of me sometimes." She sputtered a soft laugh that faded as he finished, serious once more, "And she made me a better man."

She choked a little. Oh damn, he was going to make her cry. "Rick…"

Whatever she might have been about to say was cut off as he kissed her, his lips lingering long enough to make her mind go blank as she sank into him.

He drew back slowly. "Happy anniversary, Kate."

She couldn't help her smile. "Happy made-up anniversary, Castle." Oh, this silly man. This silly, wonderful, good man who had changed _her_ life forever.

"Made up," he huffed. "You mock me when I'm trying to be romantic?"

She cut off his faux grumbling with another kiss, twining her tongue around his and deliberately drawing his lower lip between her teeth. His eyes were satisfyingly hazy when she drew back. "10 years since the best thing that ever happened to me."

His lips curved. "Best 10 years of my life."

Annoyingly, she felt her throat get tight at his words. It had been the best 10 years of her life too but after her mom's death, she felt as if she'd never be happy again, had not been happy until he had insinuated himself into her life and her heart. But for him to say that it had been the best 10 years of his life… She knew he might not have had the picture-perfect life that his publicity had indicated with his glittering success and wealth and his cozy family life with Alexis (and Martha) in his loft before they'd met but he also hadn't had to face so much danger either. And yet, in spite of it all, in spite of the shootings, the serial killers, the conspiracies, and all the hurt, he still said it had been the best 10 years of his life and meant it.

"Me too, Rick," was all she managed to say, but then by now, with him, that was enough.

His smile deepened but all he said was, "Come on, Beckett, surprise isn't quite over yet."

She gave a little laugh and allowed him to lead her over to the other side of the bar to—wait, she remembered this. This was almost exactly where Castle had been standing and talking to Alexis when she'd first approached him. Only now, she saw a small table set for two, complete with covered dishes and a bottle of champagne waiting in a bucket of ice. Everything for a perfect private romantic dinner for two, in fact.

"Castle, how did you arrange all this?" Putting all this together even while he spent his days taking care of Lily, being the best father imaginable, and still found time to write. Oh, this man. He never did anything by halves, did he?

He shrugged a little as he pulled out a chair for her. "Made a few phone calls while Lily was napping, it wasn't too hard. This room wasn't booked since it's a weekday so it wasn't a big deal."

She doubted it had really been as easy as he was making it sound but she also knew how he tended to demur when charged with his own generosity so she contented herself with giving him a kiss on the cheek before she sat down. And started to plan ahead for the more intimate ways in which she could express her gratitude later.

 _~To be continued (with smut)…~_

A/N 2: Thank you to all readers and reviewers.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: For Mobazan27, who requested smut and suggested the prompt, "I hate love songs." I managed to work it in (sort of) but I will leave it to you all to judge how well it worked (or didn't).

 **Future Perfect**

 _Part Two_

Dinner was predictably delicious and passed quickly in the easy, ongoing conversation of their shared lives as he told her what he and Lily had done today and she talked a little about work and they idly batted around some plans for the weekend, interspersed with their usual teasing. There was nothing remarkable in the words they exchanged but it occurred to her that the remarkable thing was how very _unremarkable_ it was, with memories of the reserved, prickly detective she had been 10 years ago fresh in her mind. 10 years ago, she would never have imagined being able to talk so freely with Richard Castle but then again, 10 years ago, she would never have imagined any of this, being married to said Richard Castle, having a kid, being so happy.

Kate leaned back in her chair, pleasantly full, and watched Castle as he finished his own meal. And thought, not for the first time, that her husband was really a damn handsome man. Not that he normally wasn't but she was so accustomed to seeing him casually dressed and somewhat disheveled these days (looking after a toddler was not conducive to neatness—admittedly he made dishevelment look sexy too) that it just did something to her, sent a little charge of pure physical attraction zipping up her spine, to see him like this, his hair neatly styled, his broad shoulders nicely filling out his tailored suit jacket. The ceiling lights somehow did their part to cast just part of his face in attractive shadows while still highlighting the deep blue of his eyes.

He caught her eyes and smirked, that cocky quirk of his lips that still made her want to kiss the smirk off his mouth. (Later, she promised herself.) "You're staring, Beckett."

She was. She tamped down the betraying heat in her cheeks—she flat out refused to blush at having been caught admiring her own husband—and responded with studied blandness, "It's not my fault that you're a slow eater."

Only to realize her mistake (or possibly not a mistake) as he abruptly acquired a look of heavy-lidded seduction, his voice dropping to become husky and positively dripping with sex. "Oh but you like it when I eat slowly, taking the time to savor the taste and flavor with every nibble and lick."

She was a puddle or going to be one. Also doomed. Or a winner. Either applied.

But before she could do anything about it, he abruptly straightened up, his air of intently focused sensuality falling away as if he'd never so much as had an impure thought and resumed eating.

Oh no, he could not do this to her, provoke her into being immediately and uncomfortably wet and then return to his dinner so innocently. Damn the man.

"Well, now that we're done with dinner, it's time for the next course," he said briskly. And standing up, he retrieved two smaller plates from behind the bar.

Oh, he was very good. She forgave him everything on the spot at the sight of the slice of chocolate cake he placed before her before sitting back down with his own slice.

Well, she forgave him almost everything. He was looking perfectly happy, not to say smug, as he started on his dessert and Kate decided that some retaliation was in order. It was only fair. Besides he was looking entirely too pleased with himself.

She proceeded to eat her dessert slowly, letting a few soft noises escape her mouth, not all of which were feigned because the cake was, as she would expect knowing Castle, decadent, rich, and delicious. She knew he heard but didn't look up at him. She not-so-accidentally let her shoe slip off her foot and also not-accidentally let her foot play with the hem of his pants before teasingly creeping up his calf. His entire leg jerked, bumping against the table leg, and she saw the way his whole body tensed. She hid her smirk and slipped her foot back into her shoe, retreating. At least for a moment.

He had just begun to relax a little more, his equanimity mostly restored, when she began again by allowing some of the chocolate frosting to get smeared on her lip so she could make a show of darting her tongue out to lick it off, slowly. He sucked in a sharp breath that turned into a coughing fit.

She gave him a look that was almost as sweet as the dessert in its solicitude. "Are you okay, Castle?"

He coughed some more and gulped down his water. "Fine, Beckett, just a crumb went down the wrong way."

He gave her a narrow-eyed look which she returned with an innocent smile. "Good. It'd be a shame to spoil such a nice evening."

He made a sound that was something like a grunt in response. Having made her point, she decided to take pity on him and continued eating without any more attempts at torturing him. (Besides, it would be impolitic to do so because this rooftop area, while private for now, was not exactly suitable for taking any more direct action and she wasn't a fan of exhibitionism or self-torture. She still felt a little flushed and damp.)

The ever-present lust sizzling between them banked for now, they resumed their earlier conversation as they finished their desserts and then he stood up again and held out a hand. "Dance with me, Beckett."

"There's no music," she responded but the half-hearted protest was contradicted by the way she stepped willingly into his arms.

It wasn't exactly dancing, more like swaying, tiny shuffling steps back and forth, somewhat in time to Castle's quiet humming. Eventually, Castle's humming evolved into a recognizable, familiar tune and then into quiet words as he crooned into her ear. "Oh, you're lovely, with your smile so warm, and your cheeks so soft. There is nothing for me, but to love you, and the way you look tonight."

Kate smiled and let her eyes close as she rested her head on his shoulder. She loved it when he sang. It was one of the little discoveries about him that had surprised her, that he was actually a more than passable singer. He might not be Sinatra (blue eyes notwithstanding) but his voice was smooth and pleasant, whether he was regaling Lily with silly children's songs like "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" or "Polly Wolly Doodle," or like now, when he was singing a love song to and for her.

And every time, it just did something to her, turned her heart into a soft melting thing in her chest. It was so uncharacteristic of her Captain Beckett persona but then with him, she wasn't the hard-nosed cop.

She lifted her head to look at him. "You know, I used to hate love songs," she murmured, as his singing had devolved again into humming.

He knew her well enough that he didn't evince the slightest surprise, in spite of his quiet response, "You did?"

"Mm hmm. They always seemed silly to me." And some were downright annoying. "But then I met someone who made the songs make sense."

He gave her one of his small, tender smiles, the ones that barely touched his lips and existed mostly as a light in his eyes, the ones he reserved for her, Alexis, and Lily. "You made the songs make sense for me too."

Her throat was again feeling a little tight so to dissipate it, she deliberately summoned up a teasing smile. "Who said I was talking about you?"

He made a sound like a growl and his hand that had been splayed lightly on her back slid down to cup her butt and tugged her in until she was plastered against him so closely that if there'd been a dime in his pocket, the profile of FDR would probably have been imprinted on her thigh.

She just barely had time to think this before he took possession of her mouth, his tongue delving deeply into hers, clearing her brain of any thought whatsoever until she was only aware of him. Of the firm pressure of his body pressed against hers and her small moan was swallowed by his mouth as she rolled her hips against his. She could feel the growing hardness in his pants and then he was grinding into her and one of his legs slid between hers, providing some pressure right where she wanted it. _Oh oh oh god yes Castle…_

He abruptly tore himself away from her, leaving her gasping and discombobulated. Why had he stopped…

"Wait, Beckett, we can't do this here," he gasped, satisfyingly breathless, his hair a (sexy) mess from where she'd run her fingers through it. "Home, now."

On sudden impulse, she gripped his jacket and tugged him back to her. "I've got a better idea," she husked into his ear. "Home is too far and this is a hotel that has beds, isn't it?"

He choked a little. "Beckett, are you—"

His words broke off on a groan as she deliberately took his ear lobe between her teeth and then for good measure, slipped her fingers into the collar of his shirt, caressing the bottom of his neck where it met his spine, a move which she'd learned always did it for him, as if the nerves at the base of his neck were connected straight to his groin. It was a knowledge she'd taken advantage of more than once, as it was a subtle caress, one she could give him in public like, say, the precinct, and which never failed to provoke a decidedly unsubtle response from him.

It worked this time too as he kissed her hard and then grabbed her hand, practically pulling her with him as he headed back to the elevator. Taking the quickest route to a bed, as she'd suggested.

Once in the elevator, he shrugged out of his suit jacket and draped it over his arm in a position to hide the obvious bulge in his pants and Kate suppressed a smirk. If she was hot and wet, it helped knowing he was just as uncomfortable. It didn't stop her from slipping her hand into his back pocket and squeezing his delectable butt, making him start a little and then shoot her a narrow-eyed look.

Sadly, other people joined them in the elevator on the way down to the lobby—which was probably lucky actually, Kate reminded herself. She'd seen enough surveillance footage from hotels to know that a high-end one like this probably had cameras in the elevators too.

She slipped her hand out of his pocket and instead clasped his hand decorously, or at least it would have been decorous if he hadn't shifted his grasp to allow him to circle his thumb in light slow circles of her palm, a motion that he knew sent sparks of heat shooting up her arm and down her body. She bit her lip to keep a soft moan from escaping but knew she'd betrayed herself with a little wriggle as he flashed a quick, knowing glance at her.

Damn the smug man. But she'd clearly had the right idea in deciding to get a room here because with the way they were winding each other up, there was no way they were making it home without committing some serious public indecency.

Finally they arrived at the lobby and Kate almost ran across the space to the front desk, leaving Castle to catch up with her as she requested a room from the desk clerk, handing him her credit card.

Castle caught up to her and slid one arm around her waist, resting his palm on her hip, as she signed for the room and she caught the clerk's eyes flickering to her wedding ring. The clerk didn't respond except by his expression smoothing out into utter blandness and she belatedly realized what the clerk was thinking. Oh well.

She felt Castle stiffen, his hand on her hip tensing, as she retrieved the room key and headed back towards the elevator.

"Beckett!" Castle sputtered as they stepped into the elevator. "He thinks we're—that you're—you would never—"

She cut off his indignant spluttering with a kiss, a relatively chaste one, mindful of the likely cameras, but enough to calm him. "Never mind, Castle, as long as you know that, why should I care what some random hotel clerk thinks of me?"

"Still," Castle muttered petulantly, his scowl not disappearing, "he shouldn't assume such a thing about you."

She knew he was generally able to shrug off negative publicity about himself (not always about his writing but when it was about his own supposed actions) but he wasn't able to shrug off any publicity about her with the same (or any) equanimity, tended to react badly. Most of his irritated phone calls to Paula in the last few years had involved mentions of her in the press. And she loved him for it, her sweet, chivalrous husband.

So it was up to her to tease him out of his bad mood. She could do that.

She turned and leaned against him, one arm curving around his neck, as she bussed her lips lightly against his. "Castle, are you going to pout over what some total stranger thinks all night?" She punctuated every few words with a kiss. "Because I had other plans for the evening…"

She let her free hand drift down his front lower and lower until she could press her hand against him even through the folds of his jacket and his pants.

At that opportune moment, the elevator door slid open and she took the opportunity to skip backwards, away from him. "Come on, Castle, catch me if you can."

She took off at the taunt and as she'd known would happen, he reacted as if he'd been galvanized, nicely distracted.

And she knew he was fully restored to himself by the way he deliberately timed her inevitable capture for when she reached their room door, trapping her against it and pressing the bulge in his pants against her ass as she fumbled to slide the room key in.

"Caught you, Beckett," he growled into her ear, his voice low and husky in that way that never failed to have sheer lust sizzling along her nerve endings, heat pooling low in her body, dampening her core.

"Hmm, so you have," she managed to gasp as she finally managed to open the hotel door.

They stumbled inside blindly and she was vaguely aware of him haphazardly tossing his suit jacket to the floor as she discarded her wrap and her purse. Both his arms now free, he flattened her against the door, his lips latching onto her neck, licking and sucking and laving his tongue over her pulse point. She gasped and arched against him as she tried frantically to undo his shirt and get at his skin. His hands got in the way as he cupped her breasts, kneading them through her dress, making the lace of her bra scrape almost painfully against her taut nipples. "Oh oh god, Castle," she mewled.

Since his arms were blocking her access to his chest, she lowered her hands to fumble with his pants, quickly undoing them and shoving his pants and boxers down so she could wrap her hand around him. His hips thrust instinctively into her hand and he groaned, "Beckett." There was a warning in his rough voice, telling her how close he was.

Not that she was any better. The bed was too far, at the other end of the room past the closet and the bathroom. No, she needed him inside her now.

"Now, Castle, here," she panted.

He followed her orders (for once), gathering her dress up out of the way and shoving the scrap of lace that was her underwear down her legs before he slid his hand between her legs. Her cry mingled in with his groan. "God, you're so wet."

He ought to know as his hand explored her slick flesh, his fingers moving in maddeningly light caresses that belied the urgency of his need.

She lifted one leg to curve around him, her fingers tangling in his hair, as she tried to encourage—force—him to hurry _up_ , damn it. "Castle," she whined.

He listened. Oh thank god, the damn man finally listened, sliding his hand out from between her legs and gripping her hip as he pushed inside her, hot and strong and solid and oh so _good_ … Her head fell back against the door as she tried to catch her breath, her fingers digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders.

His grip on her hips tightened, tugging her into him even more so a change in angle had him sliding even deeper into her, and she gasped, her heel digging into his leg. And then it just dissolved into a blur of sensation, of her hips grinding against his as he thrust into her messily, practically shoving her against the door again and again and— _oh god_ —again—and her lips fell open on a choked cry as she clutched at him and her whole body seized up and the coiling heat and tension tightened and then snapped as she convulsed around him. Her body went slack as he buried his face in her neck as he followed her over the edge with a few shallow, rough thrusts of his hips.

Oh god… She sucked in a few shuddering breaths, her leg falling from around his hips, as she sagged back against the door, the fact that she was trapped between it and his body the only thing keeping her upright since she wasn't sure she had any bones left in her body.

Oh god…

She had no conception of time passing so it could have been a few minutes or hours before she felt him stir, his lips puckering into a soft kiss against her neck. She made a small humming sound in the back of her throat but that was about as much as she could muster.

"Kate?"

"Mm?"

"You okay?"

There was a faint thread of something that didn't belong in his voice, a trace of… worry, that had her blinking her eyes open and cudgeling her brain into something approaching working order. "Huh?" Okay, not quite working order.

"I didn't—I wasn't exactly gentle just now."

What? She lifted her head to look at him. "You'd never hurt me." She suspected there might be some finger-shaped marks on her hips from where he'd gripped her and her shoulder blades felt a little tender but she wasn't hurt.

"Not deliberately but—"

She caught his face in her hands. This was one thing they were fixing right now. "You would never hurt me," she repeated. "Do you really think you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between sounds of pain and sounds of pleasure?"

"Well… no…"

She brought his lips to hers to kiss him, silencing him. "I'm fine but," she added with a deliberately flirtatious look from beneath her lashes, "I might need you to carry me to the bed because I'm not sure I can walk."

He huffed a laugh. "That, I can do."

She knew he could. She didn't often let him show off his rugged masculinity—his phrase—but today she could give him that.

He straightened up, stepping back and then bent to finish removing his pants and his boxers from where they'd been bunched up around his ankles. Oh yeah, they were still, mostly, dressed. They'd been a little… eager.

She heard a soft choking sound and looked down to see that he'd frozen and was staring at the tiny scrap of silk and lace that was her underwear, looking like a picture of provocative wantonness as it lay pooled around her heel. He hadn't noticed her underwear earlier but then again, he had been distracted. She delicately slipped her foot out of her shoe, leaving her underwear there. "Castle, are you just going to stare all night or are you going to take me to bed?"

That got him to move as he stood up in one swift motion, his hands sliding around to cup her butt and then lower to grip her thighs as he hoisted her up. She wrapped her arms and her legs around him and held on for the short ride, taking advantage of the position to nuzzle kisses to his neck and nip teasingly at his Adam's apple.

He dropped her rather unceremoniously onto the bed and then before she could react, moved his hands to her shoulders and turned her over onto her stomach.

"Castle," she emitted in a muted protest. Being in this position seriously limited, if not outright prevented, her ability to touch him, let alone see him. She _liked_ being able to see him and touch him and tonight especially, she had some definite plans to touch him extensively. On the other hand, she trusted him so she could let him have his way for now.

He stroked a hand lightly down her back and over her butt. "Ssh, Beckett," he husked and she wriggled a little at the tone of his voice, the low, sexy one that never failed to send heat curling through her, fresh dampness pooling between her legs. "I think you've been hiding something if that scrap of seduction you were using as underwear is any indication."

"Not hiding it; you just didn't bother to look." The words were appropriately Beckett-like but the tone was not and entirely ruined by the small gasp she couldn't help as he swept her hair aside and pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

And then she felt her dress loosening as he slowly slid the zipper down, his hand and then his mouth caressing every inch of her back as the dress parted. His tongue traced the groove of her spine in a long, steady lick that had fire shooting through her veins and oh god, how had she never realized that her spine was so sensitive? And how had he known when she hadn't known herself? (Then again, she rather thought he knew her body better than she did by now.).

Her unfocused curiosity dissolved into nothingness, along with any ability to think at all, as he went on with his caresses, his hands sweeping lazy caresses over her back and shoulders. It couldn't have been called a massage but his oh-so-talented hands soothed away any lingering tenderness until she couldn't remember any discomfort at all.

She felt a little tug and realized he was trying to slip her dress the rest of the way off her and she shifted to allow him to do so, leaving her naked except for the bits of silk and lace that were her bra. He left off touching her and she took advantage of it to turn over to see that he was—smart man—stripping off his shirt so he was completely naked.

Mmm, damn, her husband was sexy.

He almost choked again, his eyes flaring wide, as he finally got a real look at her bra and she smiled just a little and allowed herself a sinuous stretch.

And just like that, he was on her, his hands and his mouth immediately taking possession of her breasts, pressing and palming, playing with her hard nipples with his fingers and his tongue through the lace of her bra. She cried out, arching into his ministrations, her body burning. _Oh oh god…_ She let out a disgruntled whimper as he abruptly stopped, lifting his head.

"As delightful as this bra is, I think I prefer you with nothing on at all," he husked, suiting action to the words by sliding one hand behind her to undo the clasp of her bra and then sliding it completely off, tossing it carelessly to the floor.

He moved again but in the wrong direction, sliding completely off the bed until he was kneeling at the foot of the bed. "Now, come here, Beckett." He grasped her legs behind her knees, tugging her inexorably towards him while she squirmed and panted, knowing what he intended now.

Or at least she thought she did.

He pulled her down the bed until her calves were hanging off it, her knees parting to give him a perfect view of her and she moaned at the bare idea of it, the way he was staring at her, lust painted all over his face.

He knelt between her spread legs but he didn't touch her where she wanted him to at all, but proceeded to run his hands over her stomach and her hips and her thighs, skirting around and over and everywhere but where she needed him. She writhed and tried to tug or pull him to where he belonged but he resisted—damn annoying man—even as he finally lowered his lips to her skin.

Oh god, he was going to kill her—or she was going to kill him if he didn't stop this torture—as he scattered kisses over her stomach, darting his tongue into her navel, and then tracing the line where her hip met her thigh. She could feel his warm breath against her but nothing else.

She panted and squirmed, making soft desperate noises that never devolved into words since she couldn't decide if she wanted to beg or swear at him.

And then finally he let his fingers slip around her thighs, dancing lightly over her wet center. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, and she groaned, her hips arching. "Castle," she gasped.

"Hmm?" He sounded—how?—innocent, as if he had no idea what he was doing to her. She was definitely going to kill him.

"Please oh please..."

As if that was what he'd been waiting for, he gave in, slipping one finger inside her, circling the center of her with his thumb and then—oh thank god—replaced his thumb with his mouth. Oh god yes, this was what she'd wanted, his soft, talented lips and his equally talented tongue flickering delicately over her and then pressing against her more firmly. The world went white, her vision blurring, and she lost contact with reality, with anything except the workings of his lips and tongue and teeth.

She drifted back to earth to find that he was now lying beside her on the bed, a smug masculine smile curving his lips as his hand traced idle patterns over her stomach. Which meant that he was conveniently within reach and she took immediate advantage by wrapping her hand around him, stroking him first delicately and then more firmly, until he was groaning her name.

She scooted up on the bed and rolled towards him to allow her mouth to get in on the fun—and it was most definitely fun—kissing her way down his firm muscled chest and then lower, lower, until she was licking the length of him, up and down and up again, and then enclosing him in her mouth. But it was barely seconds before he was pushing her gently away from him but she didn't have time to protest because he was pulling her up until she was straddling his thighs, just the tip of him brushing against her—oohhh.

Their twin groans hung in the air as she sank onto him, taking him inside her. She clutched his shoulders for balance and then her hips were rolling as he thrust into her and their bodies found a rhythm with the ease of years.

He was chanting her name but she swallowed his words with her mouth as she kissed him, their tongues settling into much the same rhythm as their bodies. And then she was spiraling higher and higher until the tension burst and she shattered around him and he wasn't far behind, his hips jerking as he exploded.

He collapsed back onto the bed, panting, and she slumped over him, curling comfortably on top of him as she waited to drift back to earth, waited to catch her breath. He tightened his arms around her and she felt him turn his head to brush his lips against her ear and she gave a small hum of pleasure in the back of her throat.

She loved this so much, loved being so close to him she couldn't tell where his heartbeat ended and hers began, loved the intimacy of it. Loved these moments when it was just her and him, together, where they belonged, and nothing else mattered.

"Love you, Kate," he mumbled.

Her lips curved against his neck. "Love you too."

After a long minute, he shifted, turning onto his side, dislodging her and she rolled off onto the bed but didn't otherwise move so they only lay next to each other, their bodies still close enough to brush against each other, their noses almost touching.

"Mm, hi."

Her lips curved irrepressibly, not so much from amusement but from happiness. "Hi."

"This was a good idea of yours. I don't think we'd have been able to make it home."

She grinned. "Yeah, I thought so too. I'm very clever."

He laughed. "Well, I did tell you that I have a deep appreciation for your brains."

It was her turn to laugh and then he slid his hand behind her neck, bringing her in to kiss her gently.

She released a soft sigh of pleasure as he drew back. She could feel the tiredness beginning to creep up on her now—oh wait. "Castle, what time is Martha bringing Lily back home?"

He blinked and then made a small face. He understood. They couldn't afford to fall asleep here if they needed to be home early. "Early, probably before 8. I told Mother to drop Lily off before you'd need to leave for work so you could see her."

"Oh good." As much fun as an adults-only night out had been, she hadn't seen her baby girl since this morning and she really hadn't liked the idea of going more than 24 hours without being able to hold Lily, cuddle her. She should have known Castle would know that and arrange for it.

"Shower here or wait until we get home?"

She thought about it, wrinkling her nose a little. "Home. We don't have a change of clothes with us so it doesn't make much sense to shower here."

He nodded once and rolled onto his back with a low groan of reluctance before he pushed himself upright.

Kate delayed getting up for another minute, letting herself enjoy the sight of her completely naked husband as he stretched a little. (They might both be too spent to do anything about it but that didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the view.)

He noticed. Of course he noticed but he only quirked his eyebrows at her.

She didn't bother to sit up herself until he crossed the room to the door to retrieve the clothes they had left there, returning in only his boxers with the scrap of silk and lace that was her underwear dangling from one finger.

He tossed both it and her equally minimalist bra onto the bed beside her, giving her a teasing leer. "Mrs. Castle, would you care to join me in our shower at home?"

She shot him a coyly flirtatious look through her lashes. "Why, Mr. Castle, I thought you'd never ask."

In spite of (or perhaps even because of) the teasing words, they got dressed with only a minimum of distraction and were leaving the hotel room soon after.

Kate slipped her hand into his, keeping close enough to his side that her cheek could brush against his shoulder when they were waiting for the elevator and he turned his head to kiss her forehead.

And she smiled. It had been fun and amazingly hot to rent a hotel room just for sex, as if they weren't a married couple with a toddler at home, but after all, the best part was returning to their shower and their bed in their shared home, the reality of their shared lives.

 _~The End~_

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A/N 2: All readers and reviewers are much appreciated. I hope this satisfied!


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